


A New Phase

by still_lycoris



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Platonic Cuddling, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 16:22:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8063464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris
Summary: It's 1980 and and Hank's Christmas present from Charles brings back memories ...





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Red](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red/gifts).
  * Inspired by [lux aeterna](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1821793) by [Red](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red/pseuds/Red). 
  * In response to a prompt by [Red](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red/pseuds/Red) in the [xmen_remix_madness2016](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmen_remix_madness2016) collection. 



Hank couldn’t help dreading Christmas.

Christmas was awful when you were alone. When your only friend in the world was drinking himself to death and drank even more because it was Christmas and his sister was gone and everything was dreadful. Hank had tried to hide the calendars, conceal the dates but Charles had known. Charles had always known. And there had been nothing that Hank could do but sit with him and clean up the mess afterwards when it was all over. 

But those days were over now and Charles had promised more than once that they would never return. And he was good and normally, Hank never doubted him.

Christmas though. Christmas worried him. The students mostly left at Christmas, the mansion became quiet and it was just them, just the way they’d once been, alone in empty rooms. Hank knew intellectually that it was different, that the children would come back and everything would be alive again but emotionally, he found his heart sinking when he turned the calendar over to December and he never felt totally safe in his skin until January.

Charles had to know how he felt but he didn’t comment on it. Hank had a feeling Charles found Christmas difficult too. People drank at Christmas, it was hard to avoid and sometimes, well-meaning parents gifted them with bottles. Hank always thanked them, then got rid of them as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to risk it. He didn’t want to go back.

He woke up that Christmas morning when Charles sat up, dislodging Hank’s arm in the process. They still shared a bed, one of the holdovers from the days when they had been alone. They’d tried to separate themselves at first but Hank had found himself unable to sleep without Charles’s warmth and soft, petting fingers and Charles had eventually said that it was ridiculous that neither of them were getting any sleep when it would be so easy to fix the problem. They had shared a bed ever since. At first, Hank had fretted about it, wondered if it was a bad idea, a child clinging to a cuddly toy that he ought to have long discarded. But he never worried now. If they ever had a reason to stop, he was sure that they would but right now, it was something that made them both happy, that made them both feel good.

It was something that, no matter how confusing the world got, always just seemed right.

“Charles?”

“Just starting the cooking. Go back to sleep.”

He yawned and settled down again. Charles always insisted on making the Christmas dinner these days. Hank had a feeling it was to make up for all the times when Hank had cooked for him. He didn’t mind. Charles was good at cooking and his Christmas turkey was magnificent. Hank had no intention of interrupting the process.

He woke up again a while later, no longer feeling like it was ridiculously early. He sat up and immediately saw the wrapped present on the bedside table, left for him. He was a little surprised – normally, he and Charles opened the presents they got for each other when they ate together, rather than separately. But Charles had clearly left it there, clearly meaning for it to be looked at early ...

He removed the wrapping paper carefully, folding it back, then blinked at the Betamax it contained.

 _2001: A Space Odyssey_.

Hank’s first feeling was a surge of excitement. He had loved _2001: A Space Odyssey_ \- at least, what he’d seen of it. He’d always wanted to watch the rest, it was good of Charles to have got it for him. Charles had been so sick ...

The excitement was replaced by remembered worry. It had been a distressing few weeks to say the least, not just because Charles had been sick but because Charles had been so upset by it. He’d almost become used to Charles not considering his feelings but with a high fever, Charles had told him more than once how sorry he was, how much he hated letting Hank down, how one day, he would make it right ...

They hadn’t talked about any of that for a long time. 

Hank suddenly knew why Charles had wanted him to open his present alone.

He got out of bed, showered and dressed, then walked down to the kitchen. Charles was there, peeling things in a very focused way and Hank knew he’d picked up on his thoughts and was behaving as though he hadn’t. Charles was good at pretending these days but Hank was good at picking up on that pretence.

“It’s a wonderful present,” he said quietly. “Why would you ever think that I would be upset, Charles?”

“Some things are better not remembered,” Charles said, equally quietly, still not looking at him. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want me ... connected with that again in your head. That was supposed to be something good for you and I spoiled it. I spoiled a lot of things for you, Hank.”

Once, Hank would have rushed into frantic denials, reassurances. He was older now. He stayed silent for a moment, just watching Charles slicing potatoes up, letting the words sink into his mind so he could consider exactly what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it.

“Yeah, maybe you did,” he said quietly. “Maybe without you, my life would have been a lot better ... or a lot worse, I don’t know. Without you, I know I wouldn’t be here and I’m glad that I’m here. It wasn’t all bad, Charles and you’re my friend. So no, I don’t mind remembering things that went wrong sometimes because I remember the good stuff too.”

He could feel himself blushing as he finished speaking, wondering if he’d said too much, wondering if it sounded stupid. Charles looked up at him and for a moment, Hank was sure he saw tears in his eyes.

“You’re a good man, Hank.”

“Well, I’m all right sometimes,” Hank said with a small shrug and was pleased when Charles laughed, pleased when those brief ghostly tears vanished, replaced with happiness. 

“Can I help at all with the food?” he asked.

“No, it’s my kitchen, you clear out, go on. It’s Christmas morning, you’ve got better things to do.”

Hank moved over to him anyway and put a hand on his shoulder. Charles reached up and clasped his wrist and they stood for a moment, connected, as they would always be. Then Hank took a deep breath and spoke to break the moment.

“Can we watch it tonight? Together?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Charles said, his voice playful. “After one of my Christmas dinners? Do you really want me to throw up during it _again?_ ”

“Well, why break tradition?” Hank asked, then dodged as Charles threw some potato peel at him. 

“Clear out or I will ban you from the table. Go on, shoo!”

Hank shooed. He opened his cards and other presents, then watched as Charles took a break from cooking to open his. There was no card from Raven but it didn’t make Charles frown as it would have done once. He was too busy talking about the pupils that had left them cards, the grateful parents that had sent them things. Excited and glowing with hope and happiness, as he nearly always was these days.

They ended up watching _2001: A Space Odyssey_ in the evening, drinking hot chocolate. Charles curled against him, lazily stroking his fingers through the fur on Hank’s arm, the way he often did when Hank was in his beast-form. Hank liked it. Charles had always been comfortable with this form of his, even when he wasn’t comfortable with himself.

“Was it as good as you hoped?” Charles asked when the film finished. He sounded sleepy and when Hank looked at him, he saw his eyes were drooping.

“Better,” he said fondly, scooping Charles up in his arms, the way he often had before when Charles had been drunk and nigh-on insensible. Now though, Charles was conscious and laughing, using his arms to balance himself.

“I could have got myself to bed, Hank.”

“I know,” Hank said quietly. He felt Charles’s arms tighten a little around his neck and they walked in silence for a moment before Charles gestured for him to stop and lifted himself a little so they were eye-to-eye.

“Hank. We’re never going back.”

Hank looked at him for a moment, then nodded his head.

“I know,” he said and for the first time, he found that he really, really believed it.

He took Charles to bed and gently put him down, then began preparing for bed, leaving Charles to sort himself. He felt tired and warm and more content than he could remember being perhaps ever in his life. Everything just felt right.

When he got into bed, Charles was already there and they cuddled close, just like they always did, moulding their bodies just the way they both liked it. Hank turned off the light and sighed as Charles ran fingers through his fur again before settling his head on Hank’s chest.

“Merry Christmas, Hank.”

“Merry Christmas,” Hank whispered back and found that he was smiling. “Merry Christmas, my friend.”


End file.
